


Redditus

by Evadere



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Bottom Derek Hale, M/M, Pack Feels, Top Stiles Stilinski, sterek, triskelion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-26
Updated: 2012-07-26
Packaged: 2017-11-19 08:22:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/571178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evadere/pseuds/Evadere
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scott was the one afraid of becoming Derek Hale, but it’s Stiles that’s all alone now, with no family to keep him company, in an empty shell of a house. (Implied spoilers for Episode 2.09)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Redditus

It's been four months since the mayor invited the sheriff to dinner. Their friendship now functions in cycles: radio silence, the alpha catching on, errands turned awkward, a push when words can only fail, the laughter before dessert, his name a trigger and then everything stops. Start over. Repeat. It's been years of this, ever since that night in the station and the shifts weigh on all of them. It's the sheriff, the best of them, that falls, withdraws first, every night surrounded by empty chairs at the table dampening his appetite. His caseload a meager diversion from the thick silence that coats every surface of the house, the prospect of another day leaving him exhausted, the appeal of that untouched bottle, palpable.

The sheriff learns his limits and the cycle spirals on, demanding. All that is left is to see is which of them breaks first.

__________

The Silence

Stiles always worried about losing someone. He just never thought something other than death would take them away. Scott was the one afraid of becoming Derek Hale, but it's Stiles that's all alone now, with no family to keep him company, in an empty shell of a house.The paint was past the point of fading, edges peeling. The bathroom, the kitchen and the den were the only rooms that were lived in, if it could even be called that. Most of his time was spent at the station or on patrol. There was always work, surprisingly enough, even though the last supernatural incident dated six years back.

His fingers itch to pick up his cell phone and dial a number, any number his memory refused to erase, but his phone lights up, courtesy of the Beacon Hills Police Department.

Consulting a case in the next county over was just the distraction he needed.

____________

The Reminder

Rotating his shoulder slowly, Stiles picked up a basket with his free hand and dragged himself through the super-market.

Scott's intentions were wonderful and all, but almost squeezing the air out of the Sheriff's lungs before he was completely out of his vehicle was a bit intense. Especially for a human, being hugged, by an alpha.

Stiles thought his vertebrae would be used to Scott's way of an apology. The alpha's hug always announced to Stiles how disconnected he was from his best friend, whose hours were split between running the animal clinic and taking care of the pack. The sincerity of the gesture however,reminds him that Scott wanted him in his life, even if his wife didn't.

________

The Look

He ignores the canned foods and snacks, picking up a whole chicken (maybe his appetite was making a comeback) and is checking the ripeness of several tomatoes when he sees the mayor. He adds three to his basket and slowly picks a bunch of spinach. His hand was already halfway up in greeting before he caught himself, disguising the motion with an awkward swing, tossing the spinach in with the rest of his groceries.

She watched him, expression blank, as her cart rolled to a stop. Her brow drew together momentarily, the hint of disapproval visible before she takes a small breath, as if to restrain herself, dropping her eyes. She continues past him, her bottom lip tucked in, along with whatever words almost came spilling out.

-

Stiles makes a small dinner, the house quiet as he sets the table for himself. He stares at his plate for two minutes, then empties it, still steaming, into the garbage.

He sleeps in his parent's room that night.

___________

The Apology

He hasn't caught someone going that fast ever. Granted, speeding violations are a rare occurrence in Beacon Hills, but going ninety in a thirty zone is excessive. Even for someone in a Porsche. Unless Jackson was taking tips from some old friends (who stiles may have partied with on several different occasions), then those gorgeous red lips and strawberry blonde tresses belonged to a certain professor.

In the span it would normally take for him to write out a ticket, Lydia informs him of Jackson's new partnership in a firm to which Stiles suggests, would most likely prove a better fit for a lizard than a wolf, and Lydia glares, clearly still the alpha, somehow, in that relationship. Stiles doesn't hear an argument, just more news, her invitation to the mayor's for dinner and then she's berating him. How much of an idiot he was for not staying in touch with her, with them, with everyone and she meant _everyone_.

How she ends the conversation convincing Stiles to go talk to the Mayor, or drives off without a ticket was beyond him. He finds himself face to face with the mayor an hour later.Her porch is wide enough to accommodate a small militia,but standing in front of her, it barely contained space enough for him to breathe. He tries going for a casual hello, which never worked when he was sixteen so why would he be surprised when it transforms itself into an uncomfortable chuckle. She steps closer, one small dimple visible.

A call forces him back to work, but not before Allison invites him over for dinner.

__________

The Dinner

Boyd, always the most observant of the pack, takes it upon himself to pick up the Sheriff with Danny and head to the dinner together. Stiles cracks a joke (he'd almost forgotten the feel of it on his tongue) warning him about dating within the department, winking. Boyd, stone-faced, makes it clear that Danny and himself would employ better discretion next time and the last time Stiles jaw had been that close to the floor, Pete Hale had risen from the dead.

His burst of laughter surprises all three of them, earning a flash of canines from his deputy, while Danny just huffs, readying himself for another round of questions a la Stilinski.

-

The meal starts off slow, soft chewing, the careful sipping of drinks, until Stiles passes the bowl of peas to Scott, unfortunately dumping more onto his lap than his plate. Scott's looking down at his lap like the peas hold all the answers to his were-problems, Lydia snorts, Jackson brings his palm to his forehead and tries to squeeze the idiocy from around him out. Erica is shaking silently into Isaac's shoulder while Boyd and Danny can't decide whether they want to grin or just appear to be in pain.

  


Stiles just places the bowl back onto the table and starts sweeping peas from Scott's lap onto a napkin, while the noise at the back of his throat does a fair impression of his friend's first howl.

  


Allison's guffaw (Stiles can't describe it in any other way, never hearing such emotion burst out of the hunter) doesn't rattle the plates, but it does break the hold the past ten years had over them, filling the room with a happiness only relief can afford.

___________

The Trigger

Stiles takes every moment in quietly, holding on because he doesn't want to ruin this again. He can't go back, not this time. He had been a part of a pack once even when he thought it wasn't possible, he was human, after all. How could he be one with a wolf? But it snuck up on him, the bond, the joy, the longing. It was his family, his only family now, and he can't make it alone.

So of course, he opens his mouth and fucks up. Again.

It could have been the cookies (Mrs. Argent's recipe, Allison's favorite), Stiles can almost wash down the guilt and pretend it was the coffee that left his mouth bitter. Or maybe it was the caress of Isaac's thumb over Erica's knuckle, Danny's whisper to Jackson that had Boyd and Lydia rolling their eyes. Allison admitting she missed Stiles. Scott's smile, still goofy, but strained, and Stiles knows he feels it too. He was supposed to be an alpha. An alpha who knew the pack was incomplete.

Maybe it was everything, so overwhelmingly familiar and wrong, scaring Stiles because as much as he wants his family back, he won't accept a broken one. The memories spill out and they all fall silent as he rehashes their past. How much he missed them. The mistake that cost them more than they thought possible. How four orphans found a home here, with each other. He's beginning to shake and Erica reaches for his hand, then Stiles chokes out his name.

Allison pushes her chair back and Isaac is in front of him, the tears in his flesh already mending themselves shut. Jackson is holding Allison, Scott in between them, a hand on Stiles chest, the other covering Allison's stained hands. She's screaming, angry and ugly and Stiles doesn't even breathe, just grips Isaac's shoulder, feels Erica's grip on his waist. He's heard all these words before, felt them crawl under his skin, tried forcing them out of his body only to find himself in bed with them night after night. Stiles is screaming back, he doesn't deserve this, he should be here with them. They're weak, he's weak, Stiles is weak.

________

The Fall

Boyd and Danny have to carry him out to the car, Erica sitting at his side, pressing his back to her as she strokes his hair. Isaac crowds the other side of him, his growl a lullaby against Stiles' skin. He shuts out Allison's cries, replacing them with ones of his own.

__________

The Reach

It takes three weeks for Stiles to climb out of his own head and back into his house. Three weeks before Boyd removes the cot from the Sheriff's office and drives him home. Three weeks before Erica shows up with fresh groceries, forcing his fridge and cabinets back into some semblance of use, threatening to cook if Stiles doesn't. Three weeks before Isaac is dropping four cans of paint inside his door, promising to help him everyday, after lacrosse. Stiles reaches for them, for a moment, and the walls seem alive again. They leave satisfied, and he's left alone with his anger, a glass of whiskey on the counter.

The drink keeps him company until he feels it, the air surrounding him refusing to fall into his lungs and then he bolts out of the kitchen, fist connecting with supple leather, meeting no resistance. He's shouting, reminding Derek he can't be sorry, how he couldn't let Allison get her revenge, why saving Derek's life left his own in ruins. He stops himself, letting Derek push him back against the wall, the pressure familiar.

Derek's apology comes in the swipe of a tongue across his teeth. A questions of permission in each suck of his lower lip until he can taste all the reasons Derek stayed away. He rises and inhales Derek's guilt, leaving them to breathe for one another, pressing together hard enough to wonder when their bones will break.

The years apart are a gravity they surrender to, following their clothes to the floor. Derek can taste himself when Stiles devours his growl, hips rolling up, floor boards cool against his back. They become a blend of sweat and skin, Stiles asking him if he knows how much he's wanted this, lips leaving a litany of promises along his jaw. Marking him, keeping him and Derek is pushing him up and over, wolf howling.

The ache in his chest only seems to fill Stiles, expanding, as if it could burst through his skin and intertwine with the fingers splayed across his breast, gripping tight. He can barely recognize it, the beat of what he had given away a decade ago, rushing through his fingertips, digging into the hot skin of Derek's hip. Stroking and squeezing, because Derek begs him to, and Stiles lets go, dares himself to whisper what Derek can feel, must already know; what Stiles has always known. What Scott wasn't ready to admit. What Derek was too scared to acknowledge. That the omega that gripped Stiles tight, would always be pack, their pack. Even when he wasn't ready yet, he was their alpha, Stile's alpha and above him, Derek pushes back down onto him and Stiles is pulling the werewolf down to his lips, tasting the salt of absolution as he swallows Derek's groan and Stiles falls apart inside of him.

__________

The Break

It's been eight years since Stiles has slept in his own bed, the moonlight a welcome blanket. His breathing slows and deepens, matching the rise and fall of the chest underneath him. Where he ends and Derek begins is a question of skin, blood and bone, the smile he wears to sleep a reminder of what they will wake up to. _Home_.

-

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. The idea of omega!Derek was just too tempting, and the upcoming episode has enough hunter!Allison rage to make me worry for Stiles. This would have been straight up pwp but this kept beating me up until I finally let it out onto nineteen page of paper, minus the porn. Brain, how do you work.
> 
> 2\. A chunk of the time writing this was spent in frustration, eating peanuts, studying the lunar cycle, drinking half my weight in water, staring at the spiral tattoo on Derek Hale’s back and listening to this [fanmix](http://8tracks.com/miss-papaya/home-1).
> 
> 3\. It went un-beta’d (although I've combed through the words more times than I could count), so my apologies for any errors.


End file.
